


The Vineyard

by madzielightbane



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: M/M, anyways enjoy :) u dorks, anyways it's sappy and cute and fluffy, but nothing u recognize is mine, have fun, it's pretty short but i don't really write much i just had to get this down on paper, more than just a couple, so a couple lines of dialogue are quoted, this is basically a rewrite of the vineyard scene with modern language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 20:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madzielightbane/pseuds/madzielightbane
Summary: Hanschen doesn't know how to vocalize his feelings and Ernst is not as oblivious as everyone seems to think. A rewrite of The Vineyard Scene.





	The Vineyard

Ernst had noticed the hints that Hanschen had been dropping for the entire semester. Even though he was competing for the last place in class rankings, he wasn’t as oblvious as everyone seemed to think. He knew exactly what Hanschen meant when he had suggested studying Achilles and Patroclus together, even though that wasn’t part of the required curriculum. Ernst wasn’t stupid. He could always tell when Hanschen was making ironically vague innuendos, but if the blush in Ernst’s cheeks gave anything away then Hanschen hadn’t mentioned it. Whether it be a more modern joke, or a reference to greek mythology, which had always been Hanschen's favorite, for whatever reason.

Ernst was, amusedly, studying greek mythology at that very moment. Sitting in his favorite meadow at the vineyard down the street from their boarding school, Ernst found rare silence. Of course, that silence was interrupted as the bells struck seven in the evening. As the bells tolled, Ernst noticed another noise. A pair of footsteps creeping up the path where he had originally come from.  
“Those bells are beautiful,” Hanschen said by way of announcing himself.

“I know,” Ernst replied, not sure exactly where he was going with this conversation, “Sometimes, I imagine myself as a pastor in the country when I hear those bells,” Ernst is testing the waters, and gaining a minimal reaction from Hanschen, “With my children,” slightly more of a reaction from Hanschen, “And my wife.” 

This elicits a scoff from the other boy, “You can’t be serious. Ernst. You’re so sentimental,” He sat down to face him, “The false faces you see on the clergy are all an act, to hide their envy of not being truly free to do,” he paused for a moment, as if he were about to continue his sentence with one word, but decided to recalculate and choose another at the last moment, “whatever they want. However, Ernst, we have the luxury, so I suggest that you make some use of it while you still can, if you’re this intent on becoming a pastor.”

Ernst had a confused expression on his face still, so Hanschen decided that it would be best to elaborate, even if he wasn’t sure exactly what he was elaborating on.

“There are only three types of people. One: Those who let society dictate and therefore defeat them, like” he paused, as if regretting his next words, “like Moritz. Two: Those who rock the boat and get themselves expelled, like Melchior. And Three: Those who bide their time, and let everything fall into place around them,” he leans back on his hands, “Like me.”

Ernst looked as if he were about to interject, but Hanschen was worried that he wasn’t getting his original point across. In fact, Hanschen was certain that he wasn’t getting his original point across, so he continued to talk in hopes of conveying it in another, more bold manner.

“Think of the future as... a pail of milk. One man sweats, and churns the milk in hopes of turning it into butter, but exhausts himself in the process. Another man is so worried about spilling his milk that his anxious shaking causes him to spill the milk anyways, resulting in more stress and the same amount of spilled milk.”

Hanschen scooted forward so that the two boys knees were almost touching, “But me,” he tilted his head to whisper into Ernst’s ear, “I’m like a pussycat.” While Hanschen’s back straightened so that he was a reasonable distance from Ernst’s face once more, he began to trail his finger across Ernst’s knee, eliciting a slight shudder, “I just, skim off the cream.” Hanschen takes the finger that was tracing Ernst’s knee and puts it into his mouth, and makes a positively obscene noise, which causes Ernst’s eyes to widen to an almost abnormal size. 

Ernst somehow manages to make his face return to its normal state before stuttering out a, “Just,” he cleared his throat, ‘skim off, the cream?”

Hanschen chuckles at how flustered he seems, so Ernst inquires as to why, exactly, he seems to be laughing at his shock.

“Imagine that you could have whatever, or whoever you wanted, Ernst. Take your wildest fantasy, and just imagine it for a moment. Don’t think about whatever society wants or expects from you, just listen to your own heart and body. It might hurt to think about, and it might suck sometimes if other people judge you for what you feel, but you’re not alone,” Hanschen places his hand gently on Ernst’s shoulder, “Sometimes the world is an awful place, and people give you shit for being who you are, hell, people give me shit all the time and you know what, it hurts. But you'll get through it.”  
“It never seems like anything can phase you Hanschen. You’re always so calm, I don’t know how you do it.” Ernst slowly brings his hand up to the back of Hanschen’s neck.

“Just because you get used to it doesn’t mean it hurts any less, but it does help to know that you’re not alone.”

“Can I kiss you?”

The question seems to cause Hanschen to freeze immediately, he had never considered the possibility that he might actually get this far. His plan had been to wander into this meadow, confess his feelings and then leave. But he finds himself stuttering out a rushed, “Yes.” before Ernst’s lips are on his. 

They kiss for only a few moments before Ernst breaks away and touches his fingers to his lips, “Oh God.”

Hanschen, who still hasn’t opened his eyes, leans their foreheads together and murmurs a contented, “Hmm. I know,” But then he opens his eyes and decides to become a philosopher for a moment, realising that he doesn’t want to stand in the way of Ernst’s dreams of being a pastor, no matter how ridiculous he finds them personally. 

And so Hanschen begins his retreat. He slides backwards slightly, as if he’s getting reading to leave, but he can’t help but leave Ernst with a piece of advice, or truth, depending on how you look at it. 

“When we look back, thirty years from now, tonight will seem unbelievably beautiful.” He implies that there is nothing wrong with two boys kissing in a hidden meadow, and whether or not they grow apart as they grow older, tonight was not a mistake.

What Hanschen was not expecting was Ernst’s hurried reply, “And in the meantime? When you first arrived, I thought that we’d only talk, but now...” He trailed off, but Hanschen understood what the rest of the sentence was meant to be. 'I want more than just talk'.

He wants there to be a meantime. Ernst wants there to be more between them than just this one kiss and the memories of it thirty years from now, and obviously Hanschen does as well, or else he might not have had the courage to come here in the first place.

So they both meet each other in the middle, and in their world full of sorrow, there is relief.


End file.
